


curtains

by whooves



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble, F/M, bet you weren't expecting that one, fluff and cute stuff, seriously i dare you to find a more ridiculous AU, the Doctor is an interior designer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 01:51:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whooves/pseuds/whooves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Curtains,” he says with a shudder. The blonde woman- his client of the week, looks at him and raises an eyebrow.</p><p>“Something wrong with curtains?” she asks, curiosity edging into her voice.</p><p>“No, no, not at all,” he responds, shaking his head. “Just that I’m not a fan, but they’re very popular, and they do things like keep sun out and they’re very…curtain-y.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	curtains

“Curtains,” he says with a shudder. The blonde woman- his client of the week, looks at him and raises an eyebrow.

“Something wrong with curtains?” she asks, curiosity edging into her voice.

“No, no, not at all,” he responds, shaking his head. “Just that I’m not a fan, but they’re very popular, and they do things like keep sun out and they’re very…curtain-y.”

It’s not that he’s nervous (except that he is). It’s not that she’s so lovely he can’t think straight (which, oh yes, she is). It’s more the fact that he’s now doing interior design for the Vitex heiress and all he can think about is which couch she’d look loveliest laying naked on when he comes home from work each day. (Brown suede, definitely, with her hair splayed out on one of those plush cornflower blue silk pillows.)

She smiles at him in amusement, and he’s grateful that she doesn’t just shove him out the door and take her business elsewhere. Still, as he tries to convince himself in his mind that this is his job, and she’s just a client, he’s trying to figure out ways to draw out this consulting session as long as possible.

She says something, but it doesn’t comprehend in his brain as he stares at her windows, wondering about the implications of curtains and helping a single woman pick them out. She tries again.

“Doctor Smith?” He whirls around and jams his hands in pinstriped pockets.

“Yes, Miss Tyler? Um…Ms. Tyler?” He fumbles for a moment, his tongue feeling foreign and twisty in his mouth. She laughs, with a bit of sparkle in her eyes.

“It’s Miss Tyler. But Rose is fine. Call me Rose.” He grins, and tips his head.

“Rose Tyler! Brilliant. So curtains?” She smiles back at him.

“Curtains.” He stands for a minute, staring stupidly at that little flash of tongue between her teeth, and only seems to recover when she blushes and clears her throat. He flushes pink as well, being caught staring is rather unlike him. All it’s taken to unravel his self-control and professionalism is this gorgeous blonde heiress in a pink dress.

“Well,” he says, and draws the words out. “You could go with some regular curtains here, but it might be a bit nicer, a bit more open, if you extended the windows up and out a bit, and then got curtains that would hang to the floor. Lots of natural light when you want it, none when you don’t.” he rambles this all out at a hundred miles per hour, and Rose blinks, before laughing.

“Alright, alright. Open spaces sounds good. I still want the windows separated though, not a whole wall.” She tucks a strand of curly blonde hair behind her ear and looks at her watch. Her brow furrows. “Oh, what time did you say you had to leave?” she asks him.

“Ah, um…three?”

“It’s three-thirty,” she grimaces, and his face pales. He begins moving to the door and she follows.

“So sorry to cut short,” he says, walking out the door, turning back to catch one last glimpse of pretty pink lips and a brilliant smile. “I will see you…Wednesday?” he asks hopefully.

She smiles, and his heart stops.

“Yeah, Wednesday is good. See you!” With her parting comment, he dashes to his old blue station wagon, and pulls out of her driveway.


End file.
